Summary: Set before the Briggs arc. Ed contemplates a few things while he and Al wait for a late train.

Purpose

The world is a desolate place, or maybe he's just thinking that way because there doesn't seem to be anything worth living for in it. For him, at least. Edward tastes bitterness in the back of his throat; it makes him feel nauseous, weary and sick. But besides that, he feels almost nothing at all.

It's one of those moments – and he should know better not to give into them anymore, really, but he doesn't all the same – that he lets hopelessness wash over him like a tidal wave, encompass him. He feels like he's about to drown, even though his lungs are completely functional and his own heartbeat is too loud and the world is dim with hate and envy and greed that seem to pollute the very air.

In other words, he feels like shit.

He knows that in a couple of hours he'll probably be annoyed that he had allowed himself this moment of weakness – but he's never learn to just ignore these feelings, he's too emotional, he knows.

Al keeps sending him worried glances, or what would have been a worried glance if the boy actually had a face to portray his emotions. Ed feels bitterness rise in his throat like bile – no, he doesn't, and it's his damn fault and he can't even goddamn fix it!

He's useless, Ed had known this fact for quite a while, even in those upbeat moments, full of determination and hope and purpose – but there are still people out there who need his help, so he isn't going to give up just yet. The world isn't going to get rid of him that easily, it never could have – even with two limbs gone, even when he was alone in their old house with a monstrosity born of human transmutation and nothing left of Al but a bundle of cloths.

Al had died. Ed had killed him by activating that damn circle, and he had been glad, at the time, that Al didn't remember what happened. Al had gone through enough as it is, but despite that he's still the kindest, gentlest soul Ed knows – he always has some enthusiasm to spare for his older brother when Ed begins to despair again. Even when Al regained his memories of that day, nothing truly changed between them.

Ed really didn't deserve such a kind brother.

A lot of people got what they didn't deserve. Al got stuck in a tin can (though Ed doesn't like to refer to it as such, because it only increases his misery). Nina got turned into a chimera by her own father (and was killed along with him, but maybe if she had continued on living, it would be as a lab rat - that eased the pain of her passing ever so slightly). Teacher lost her child (and lived through the grief twice, though Ed likes to think that her burden is lesser now). Brigadier General Hughes was murdered (that's a sensitive topic, one that he and Al rarely brush in conversation, even though they think of him quite often).

Ed thinks about Hughes sometimes, once the indignation and hurt towards the Colonel, and his own grief, have worn off. He thinks of Elysia, and remembers his own desperation and the aching void in his heart. He thanks every deity out there that the girl is still too little to know about alchemy – and swears never to let her near it.

It makes his stomach lurch and his heart throb as it drags out a ton of other memories he's rather forget. Mom. Nina. Hughes. Al. They were the people he failed – but Al is still alive, and he can fix Al, give him a better life, give him his body back. Ed won't give up until he accomplishes that goal.

Ed clings to life, to the one true purpose – a mistake! A mistake he hasn't been able to fix for over four years now, he really is worthless – it's his lifeline, he's reason to trudge forward through whatever tragedy might befall him and his younger brother.

He hears iron scrape gently over iron as Alphonse shifts to look at him again. His little brother doesn't say anything, and Ed's grateful for that. Al lets him brood things over, lets him wallow in misery before he finds his warrior spirit again and smacks himself over the head for his own stupidity. And if it takes too long and begins to drag himself everywhere like a zombie, he knows Al will console him. Al will make him better, just like he always does.

Al. He doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve this half-life, where touch and affection are just pressure and empty words and promises Ed's beginning to doubt he can fulfill. With the Philosopher's Stone turning out to be a thing straight out of their worst nightmares, a time-limit that could run out any day now and the people dear to him held as hostages, Ed has only two things left – his alchemy and his little brother. It looks pretty hopeless either way.

But Al would follow his older brother into Hell, and it's arguable that he already has. So Ed would rather die a thousand deaths before he lets something happen to his him – or Winry, or Grandma or even the Bastard Colonel. It still doesn't change the fact that the whole situation is as hopeless as it could get – wait, don't say that, it's bound to get even worse if you do.

But he's still the a stubborn, loud-mouth genius and he'll be damned if he just bows down to the Humunculi and their Father – so that Bastard Colonel better keep his promise after all of this was over. Al would like that kind of world.

Al. His brother, his purpose, his determination. He doesn't care much for his limbs anymore – even though the image of Truth wearing them is quite unsettling – but the thing he wants to see more than anything is Al's smiling face, human and healthy and kind. Ed thinks the world would be equivalent to perfect then.

Sorrow washes over him again and he can see crystal clearly, in his mind's eye, Al's emaciated body standing before the Gate. He could count the ribs under his brother's pale skin, which was pulled tight across his bony frame. It scares him. Scares him beyond words that even if he does get Al's body back – which he will, because there's no room for failure when his little brother is concerned! – that he might die just from that wretched state.

Ed hopes not, wills it not be true. Ed forces the 'what if's to the back of his mind, trying to deny the implications of such thoughts. That wouldn't happen, Al would be fine, he wouldn't let it happen – but still the trepidation and doubt continued to plague him, whispering "What if you're too late?"

"Brother? You okay?" the words echo ever so slightly, and the childish voice seems to resonate within the metal armor, like a bell.

Ed shakes himself out of his stupor and plasters on his best sheepish smile – internally berating himself for making Al worry "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking..."

He knows Al probably didn't buy the excuse, but for some reason his brother decided to play along "Lost in thought?" he asks.

Ed shrugs, relieved to have a distraction from his dark thoughts "You could say so."

"Well, it is unfamiliar territory to you, Brother." Al jokes. It takes a moment before the implications sink "What are you implying, Alphonse?" Ed asks, irritated, but he feels a little better now that some semblance of normalcy has returned to them.

"Oh, nothing."

"Mm hm, that's what I thought."

And the silence conquers the night once again. Ed sighs, wishing that the stupid train would just hurry up and get here already. His stomach growls suddenly.

"Brother, are you hungry?" Al's tone is both amused and a slightly concerned. They didn't have much money with them. Ed chooses to ignore his rumbling stomach "Nah, I can manage." There's a part of him that wants to return the question, but Ed squashes it quickly when he realized what he's thinking. Al doesn't have a stomach, or taste buds, and the concept of hunger is almost foreign to him – he knows what it is intellectually, but he's all but forgotten how it feels.

Al's forgotten a lot of things. Hunger, thirst, exhaustion, touch, warmth, smell – these are all the privileges Ed lavishes in while his brother stands by and lets him enjoy the life he doesn't have. He doesn't deserve that. Al deserves a happy, care-free life with everyone else. He doesn't deserve such a failure of a brother as Ed is.

Ed doesn't deserve to call Alphonse his brother after all he'd done to him, all he'd taken.

Something tightens in Ed's chest, knotting and hurting and raw. He lets out a low moan, bending over slightly. "Brother! Are you okay?" Al asks in concern not a half a second later. He crutches by Ed's side, but the pain has passed and Ed's already straightening himself. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Al. I guess I'm just sore." Ed reassured his brother hurriedly. Al shouldn't be worried, and there's honestly nothing wrong – except something in his head which apparently likes to torture him.

They continue to wait, Ed seated on his suitcase while Al sat cross-legged on the ground – though closer to his troubled elder than before – and the empty train-station seems so dark and lonely at that moment that it was like they were completely alone in the darkness.

But Ed wasn't alone, he had Al by his side, as he always would. His little brother was there for him through thick and thin. After losing their mother, through their alchemy training, through the year adjusting to his automail, on every mission the military had ever given him (that Al was allowed to accompany him on) and now while they faced the threat of the Humunculi.

But it's all going to be worth it, if only to see that smile once again.

Ed had thought that when they were preparing to bring their mother back too, but he knows that this he can manage. He has to do it, he wants to make his little brother happy, to see him smiling and cheerful and Winry crying tears of joy when they came back together and he'd be content with just that – he doesn't need anything else.

The train pulls in, an entire hour late, and Ed stands up and walks toward it, his ears filled with the familiar creak of metals as Al follows. Their journey isn't finished yet, and home is still out of reach, but they can manage. Everything Ed needs is to know that his little brother is by his side, because as long as they were together, they could get through anything – and when their journey comes to an end, when the Humunculi were beaten and the County on its' way to rebuilding itself as a peaceful nation and they'd gotten their bodies back (because Al was just as adamant on getting Ed's limbs back as Ed was determined on restoring Al's body) he'd make sure Al got the slice of Winry's apple pie he'd been wanting so badly for so long.

It would all be worth it, just to see that smile once again.

AN: *Sighs* Another angst fic, what can you do? At least this one ended on a happy/hopeful note. What do you think? I hope I kept Ed in character, he's a seriously angst-y person so I hope I did him justice. Thoughts? I'd really like to hear them!